


Christmas But They Be Dueling: Them and They Guns

by spiffyyy



Category: 18th Century CE RPF, American Revolution RPF, Historical RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Duelling, Fluff and Angst, Historical Lams, M/M, basically johns an angst slut, but added some drama for plot, but not too much, i swear im not making shit up, i tried to be accurate
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:01:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27605996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spiffyyy/pseuds/spiffyyy
Summary: Lee continued, “Colonel Laurens would agree to a second discharge.”Hamilton shook his head at John who stood mere yards away, his friend didn’t meet his eye and Alexander let out a sigh, “Colonel?”“That sounds like a fine proposal, General.”“Reload me, Edwards,”
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15





	Christmas But They Be Dueling: Them and They Guns

**Author's Note:**

> basically the laurens-lee duel but based off hamilton's report and with some lovely, lovely lams
> 
> btw the title came from a discord conversation with my friend lmao

He already thought the day a gloomy one before action had even taken place. Snow was not Alexander’s choice of weather and the only comfort he was given was a friend’s embrace. They were stood behind a pair of trees, their horses standing ready nearby. Clouds covered the sun and snowflakes coated John’s hat.

“I wasn’t given a chance to talk to you this morning, my arrival came with much haste,” He took his friend’s cheeks into his gloved hands, they were red from the frost. 

The blond chose not to reply to his statement, “You’re anxious.”

“I’m not, you’re quite a mighty shot.”

“I can feel your fingers tapping, Hamilton,” Alexander’s hand abruptly stopped the unconscious rhythm.

“Should a man not be worried when his dearest dances with death?”

“This is merely a courtesy… and perhaps one dance… or drink,” John took his wrists, pulling his hands down from his face, “Trust me, Alexander. I come to teach a lesson that an old man such as Lee should have learned by my age, no life shall come to a demise.”

Laurens dropped his hands, stepping away and taking a fast pace to their horses. He watched him swing a leg over the saddle of his horse before chasing after him, he would not let him just walk away, “Laurens! At least let me…” He wanted to shout at the man, how could he not think of his feelings? How could he not hope to give a proper goodbye due this truly be a farewell? John’s rash nature was one that Alexander tousled with, it was a wonder how he could simply jump on a horse and rush into the frenzy.

He grabbed John’s arm in slight aggravation nearly making his friend topple off his horse, “Hamilton!”

He pulled John’s face down to his and stared hard into his clear blue eyes before kissing him, his chest was filled with the warmth of a burning fire. His lover wouldn’t die, to suffer through such battles and go out by a duel. Only a cruel universe would wish that upon a man such as John. Alexander turned his head away with a breath, “Please… don’t get yourself killed.”

-

Two shots rang out, Hamilton found his eyes darting to Lauren's first rather than the older general. The blond stood still, his face contorted as he moved to reload his pistol. He was safe. Next, he glanced over to General Lee, the bitter wind loud in the quiet pause. The man had dropped his pistol, his right hand held over his lower side, “I’ve been shot!”

John was swift to approach the general, Hamilton and Edwards–Lee’s second–hot on his heels. Lee stuck his left arm out, gesturing them away, “It’s not deep, it’s not deep...”

“Sir, at least let me consider its severity,” Edwards continued at a slow pace, Hamilton glanced at John only to be met with a blank expression. He glimpsed up and down his friend’s uniform, only then noting the disheveled coat and messily plaited braid. Had Laurens been getting proper sleep? It was true that none of Washington’s aides slept well–or enough–but Laurens always made an attempt to look as though he got a full night’s rest. Hamilton shook off the thought, looking back to Major Edwards and General Lee.

“Major, I assure you I’m fine.”

“Gen-”

Lee was quick to interrupt, “Reload my pistol! I would like a second shot.”

Edwards went silent and Laurens gave a nod, walking away. Hamilton shook his head by instinct, they were not fit to discharge again, “Sir, that is not an advisable idea. I would suggest reconsidering, you’re injured,” Edwards followed up Hamilton’s suggestion with a hum of agreement.

“I know damn well I’m injured,” Lee gestured to Edwards, “Reload.”

He didn’t budge, “General Lee, this duel should end as it stands now.”

“I’ll do it myself,” Lee gave a huff before bending to retrieve his pistol with a small groan, “As my second I would think you would be willing to comply to my wishes,” Edwards gave Lee a stern glare, the remark seeming not to have affected him.

Lee continued, “Colonel Laurens would agree to a second discharge.”

Hamilton shook his head at John who stood mere yards away, his friend didn’t meet his eye and Alexander let out a sigh, “Colonel?”

“That sounds like a fine proposal, General.”

“Reload me, Edwards,” The major hesitantly took Lee’s pistol, Hamilton watched in disbelief. Were they not to debate this further? Surely the general did not have any personal motive besides his honor, so why would he push for a second round?

“Major Edwards, we ought to talk this out.”

The man turned his head to him, his hands preoccupied with reloading the pistol, “Colonel, I think the same.”

General Lee scoffed as Edwards handed him back the pistol, the Major followed Hamilton out of earshot of the General and of his Laurens. He himself had not been given an opportunity to have a true conversation with Edwards before, the man was an aide de camp for General Lee and had served in numerous battalions. He stood a couple of inches taller than Hamilton and was six years his senior.

“While I would never say this to the general, I believe that a second discharge intrudes upon the question of if this duel truly has a personal motive or not.”

Edwards nodded at his remark, “General Lee only intends to defend his honor, I’m unsure of why he would require a second shot.”

Hamilton wanted to reply that all egocentric men were insufferable but he had the will to hold back, “This affair may only end in death if we continue.”

“I’m under the same impression,” The major looked back to where General Lee stood, he seemed untouched by the wind and kept his gaze directed towards Laurens. John studied his pistol, Hamilton wondered what he thought about, “Would Colonel Laurens agree to a termination of the duel if you were to speak to him?”

He paused before answering, would he? John was typically one to listen when he gave advice but he seemed...off today, Hamilton didn’t know how to describe him, “I’m afraid that I’m unsure, could you perhaps convince General Lee?” Once he said it he knew the answer would be no, Lee wouldn’t even listen to his second.

“You saw his reaction a few moments ago, he will not hear me out. I do respect and serve him, however… the general does tend to lean on the stubborn side.”

Hamilton wanted to let out a shout, even his aide would agree! He only nodded, purposely keeping it curt, “Shall we state our decision of termination with little room for dispute?”

“Unfortunately I believe that to be the best option, Colonel Hamilton,” Edwards turned from him, his pace quick back to the two gentlemen–Hamilton followed.

A grumble of protest from Lee was heard when Edwards issued the decision, little objection came from Laurens as Hamilton watched him. The blond’s hair blew in the wind, his hat pelted with snow and he kept his eyes directed at Edwards. 

They returned back to Philadelphia, Hamilton stealing glances at Laurens from horseback. General Lee was assisted off of his horse by Edwards once they reached a home Washington and the residing military were to be staying at for the next month or two–at least till February. General Washington had been called to attend a Continental Congress meeting and had wished for some of his office to come with him. When Hamilton had arrived in Philadelphia this morning from the Continental Army’s official winter camp in Middlebrook he had been told that this was Henry Laurens’ house–former President of Congress and John’s father. He thought this perhaps a reason for John’s quietness but quickly dismissed the thought, he and his father had a working relationship.

“Gentlemen,” Hamilton jumped off his horse, “I shall take your interview of the duel on the morrow, and then scribe my report. General Lee, I wish you fast healing,” He gave a small bow, sensing Laurens was following his lead. He watched Lee and Edwards take their horses to a servant who stood absentmindedly next to a small staircase up to the house.

Laurens took the reins of both of their horses, meeting Hamilton’s eye for one of the first times today, “I ought to tie these up, the servant seems preoccupied,” The man in question was cowering away as General Lee took some sort of a wrath out on him, Edwards stood by silently.

He nodded, looking back to the house as John walked away. It stood two stories high, the walls bricked red, and the curtains drawn closed on the windows. It appeared like every house in Philadelphia, but bigger–Henry Laurens was a wealthy man–, and with a multitude of horses. Hamilton glanced up and down the relatively quiet street before stepping up a couple of stairs to the house. Every day he felt more and more out of place… 

-

After a sumptuous supper, a maid showed the staff to their sleeping quarters. Hamilton was not blind to John’s lack of appearance, he hadn’t seen him since he had left to tie up their horses–which had been at least two hours ago. He thought that John may have been busy with unkept work but upon asking Meade of their workload for Christmas, the man mentioned that Laurens had finished up his work this morning in preparation for the holidays. Hamilton had screwed his face up at that but had been a small comment of, “Typical Laurens.”

A maid had opened a door and had gestured Hamilton inside, saying it was his and Mr. Laurens, he had hummed holding back a chuckle. She had left him with his personal trunk and offered to assist in unpacking but he had refused kindly. He sat down at one of the desks in the room and looked through the drawers to see how much room he was working with, it would be sustainable. He reached for his letterbox, pulling it into his lap as he flipped through the contents.

A knock came from the door and Hamilton turned his head over his shoulder, the door opened and John appeared. He seemed to be talking to himself before he saw Hamilton sitting at a desk, then he smiled, “Alexander, I forgot we were to be sharing quarters. I requested so on behalf of our work.”

“An exceptional idea Laurens,” He shifted through his letterbox, attempting to organize his work, “I admit, I held back surprise when...what was her name...oh! Margaret–or was it Martha…”

John interrupted, shutting the bedroom door, “Mary, we’re speaking of one of the housemaids I assume?”

“Yes, Mary! I held back surprise when Mary said we were the only ones staying in this room,” He set his letterbox down, standing from the desk to squat and dig in his trunk for an inkpot.

“We have plentiful rooms, this is a fine house.”

Hamilton glanced around the bedroom from the floor, the intricate wallpaper still bright in the dimly lit room, “I can certainly see that,” He chuckled, looking back to the trunk

“This is my father’s home, I see little issue in a small luxury,” He heard John’s boots as he approached.

“You don’t seem the type to exploit such advantages.”

“You’re glad I did.”

Hamilton grinned standing to his feet, he spun to meet Laurens’ eyes, “I am,” He put a hand on John’s shoulder, his fingers jerking back at the melted snow. His coat was still wet, he had only just come inside, “John… where have you been?”

Laurens took a step back, his hand falling from the wet coat, “Outside.”

“It’s freezing out,” He grabbed John’s hands, they were also cold, “Where are your gloves?”

“Tavern, they’re at a tavern,” He let Alexander rub his hands, let him warm them, “I didn’t drink a lot, I’m not drunk Alexander,” Laurens was quick to add.

“I know you aren’t,” He brought John’s hands to his chest, almost as if he were hugging them. He wanted to ask why John went to a tavern. Why he had lost his gloves. Why he had been gone for so long. Why he had been so silent and absent today. But he didn’t.

“I… I’m sorry,” Laurens’ voice broke and he wrapped his arms around Alexander’s back, squeezing. He felt his coat grow wet, yet he wasn’t cold.

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!


End file.
